


Unzipped

by RosieTwiggs



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: And Then Some, F/M, Fluff, No plot whatsoever, None - Freeform, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, just lots of sex, no like seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-10 20:40:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1164296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosieTwiggs/pseuds/RosieTwiggs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Knowing the earthquake machine prototype is out there has them all on edge, so when Oliver shows up outside Felicity's window, she invites him to spend the night. Platonically, of course. Takes place during 2x12.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unzipped

**Author's Note:**

> An anon requested smut with the blue zipper dress Felicity wore in 2x2. Then this happened.

It was late when Felicity finally unlocked the door to her apartment and flicked on the light.

Really late.

More late than usual.

Honestly, they'd all been shaken up by the knowledge that there was another earthquake machine out there, Oliver most of all. Enough to talk about the island, and Slade, and...

And Shado...

Felicity had felt bad hearing about Shado. Last time Oliver had mentioned her she'd, well she hadn't reacted well, which was mostly because of Oliver being stupid asshole about Barry, but didn't really excuse her behavior either way.

She kept getting all these bits and pieces from him about what had happened, and couldn't help but try to fit them all together into some sort of story that made sense.

Oliver had said Slade was in love with Shado, but something about his eyes when he talked about her, made Felicity think Oliver's feelings for her hadn't been entirely platonic.

Unlike theirs. Their totally, completely, platonically _platonic_ feelings.

Felicity snorted, heading into her bedroom.

"Yeah right, platonic," she muttered to herself. "We're so platonic you could cut the "platonic" tension with an arrow head."

A low chuckle from outside her window made her scream in surprise, immediately grabbing the nearest item for defense. A hair dryer. Great. She calmed down a second later when she recognized Oliver’s shape on the fire escape, her window open and curtains swaying gently in the breeze. She dumped the hair dryer back on to her dresser with a loud thud and stalked to her window.

"Oliver!" she exclaimed, reaching out to smack him. "You scared the hell out of me! What's wrong with you?"

He just grabbed her wrist and poked his head in the window.

"I'm sorry, really I am. Can I come in?"

His thumb was rubbing circles into her wrist and Felicity swallowed heavily before nodding her head, gripping his wrist in return and pulling him inside.

She was trying not to think about what he'd been laughing at. What he'd overheard.

Instead, looking over at how much bigger Oliver seemed in her little bedroom, she asked the obvious question.

"What are you doing here?"

He sighed and shrugged.

"I – I’m not really sure… Didn't feel like going home? I guess?" He poked at a little bobble-head koala she had on her dresser, next to the hair dryer. "With the earth quake machine out there, and everything that’s happening right now, home just has too many -" he frowned, falling silent.

"Too many memories of Tommy," Felicity finished for him.

Oliver nodded, looking back at her.

"Well, you're welcome to stay here," she said softly. She meant on the sofa, but she couldn't help the rush of adrenaline she got picturing him lying next to her in her bed, holding her tightly against his chest, hands roaming down her thighs. They weren’t new thoughts, not by a long shot, but they were a little bit more dangerous with Oliver standing feet away from her in her bedroom. Next to her _bed_.

And with her imagination already getting away from her, Oliver stepping right up into her personal space made her jump slightly and gasp, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"By the way, I wanted to tell you, this is a nice dress," he murmured, bringing a hand up and fingering the zipper at her chest.

It was actually one of her favorites. She liked the color and the smoothness of the fabric and the zipper and how easy it was to get on and off.

Oliver raised an eyebrow.

"I just said that all out loud, didn't I?"

A sly grin spread slowly across Oliver's face. "Mm-hm..." he said, tugging very slightly on the zipper, moving it down an inch before stopping. Felicity froze, not completely sure that what she thought might be happening or was about to happen was actually, well, _going to_.

"What were you saying about tension and arrowheads before?" he asked, lowering his head until she could feel his breath on her lips with every word.

And okay, yes it was.

Felicity was finding it hard to breathe, her chest rising and falling, brushing against Oliver's hand. She could back out, she knew. Say that she'd just been rambling, that he'd misunderstood, and he would step away. She knew Oliver well enough to know he’d just sleep on her sofa and they wouldn’t ever talk about this. Ever. They’d be… _platonic_.

"I think I was saying that it _definitely_ wasn't platonic."

She heard his breath hitch as his other hand gripped her waist, pulling her in closer. "That's what I thought," he said, and his lips were on hers a second later.

It was a fury of teeth and tongues. She opened up to him almost immediately and he groaned, running his tongue along the roof of her mouth, flicking lightly at her lips before delving in again.

Felicity gripped his shoulders before sliding her hands up into his hair, pulling him down even more, nails scraping against his scalp, and he tugged on her pony tail, pulling her head back as he nipped down her neck, sucking on the skin of her collarbone. Felicity mewled, and then he was moving lower, unzipping the front of her dress with agonizing precision, kissing and licking at each inch of skin he revealed, walking Felicity backwards until she tumbled down on her bed, Oliver following suit.

The top of her dress parted to reveal a dark blue lace bra. Oliver immediately pulled one of the cups down, taking her nipple into his mouth and sucking on it, rolling his tongue over the nub. He released it and moved lower, biting at the mound of her breast, and Felicity arched her back, crying out. He repeated his attention on the other side, leaving the cups of her bra pulled down, pushing her breasts up, the cool air from outside brushing against the sensitive skin, slick from his ministrations.

The skirt of her dress unzipped from the bottom up, and Felicity gasped as Oliver drew the zipper up the front, stopping about two inches from the tops, leaving the skirt secure around her waist. He then very slowly ran his palms up her legs, pushing the fabric of her skirt aside as he exposed her thighs, his mouth following his hands, kissing and biting, alternating between her legs. She felt the dampness soaking into her panties and groaned when he skipped over her center, instead dipping his tongue into her belly button as she squirmed. He reached underneath the waist of her skirt and hooked his fingers in her panties, drawing them down her legs and tossing them to the side.

Felicity was now _essentially_ completely naked, though Oliver had only really removed her underwear, and damn him, he was still dressed.

“Oliver,” Felicity breathed, trying to sit up and reach for the hem of his shirt, but he just pressed down on her shoulder, pushing her back into the mattress with one hand, and his other hand was suddenly between her legs, stroking at her folds. He pushed one finger inside of her and Felicity gasped, throwing her head back.

“Oh, god!”

He rubbed his thumb mercilessly at her clit, pumping his finger, crooking it and stroking her inner walls. Without warning, he pulled out, reducing the pressure on her clit to feather-light touches and she keened, bucking up against his hand, trying to get him to touch her again. He obliged a moment later, suddenly pressing down hard on her clit again and thrusting two fingers inside of her, and god she was already so wet, and so ready and then he stopped again, barely brushing against her and _no_ , she couldn’t do this, she _needed_ him to –

Felicity screamed when he picked up the pace again. She was gripping at her blanket, sweat beading on her skin, eyes screwed shut, panting, and oh god how was this even happening, she couldn’t… he was… oh… _oh_ …

 _Oh_.

She drew in a ragged breath as she came, trying to get enough air and failing spectacularly, head thrashing from side to side, arching up off the bed, every muscle taut, until she finally crashed back down, gasping out a sob as the tremors shook her. She swallowed several times, breathing heavily through her nose.

She felt the bed dip, and when she finally opened her eyes, disoriented, she found Oliver had stripped, his sweater and jeans on the floor behind him.

He was on his knees in between her legs, holding up a condom.

“Felicity,” he said, voice low, sending a shiver down her spine. “Can I-?”

Felicity laughed, and couldn’t believe how broken he voice sounded. “Oh, _god_ , _yes_ , please. Please do. That’s – yeah, that’s something you should definitely do, like, right now…” she tended to ramble even more when she was post orgasm – she had forgotten. She leaned up on her elbows, watching him roll the condom on slowly, and her eyes widened.

“Wow, you’re um,” she cleared her throat. “You’re really just _impressive_ all around, aren’t you? That’s – okay. Unfair. Not that, I mean, I’m happy because I get to – but I mean, some people just get all the good genes, and-“

“Felicity,” Oliver finally cut her off, lifting her right leg up to his shoulder and pressing against her entrance. Felicity shut her mouth with a click and fell back onto the bed. She was still shivering with after-shocks from her last orgasm and now, looking up at Oliver smirking, feeling every inch of him pressed up against her, she was _so_ ready for round two.

And fuck she was _still_ technically wearing all her clothes…

That was her last thought before Oliver was sliding into her, agonizingly slow, and the stretch burned in all the best ways, and she shut her eyes tightly, breathing in through her nose until Oliver bottomed out.

“You okay?” he asked, and she looked up to see him gritting his teeth.

“Are _you_?” she responded, breathing heavily.

Oliver dropped his head to her shoulder, his breath warm against her neck. “Yeah, you just – you feel _really_ good.”

“I think it would feel even better if you moved,” Felicity said, nails digging into his shoulders.

His laugh barely registered before he was pulling out and thrusting back in, and Felicity’s vision blackened around the edges. She’d never felt so full, and with every movement, every shift, the friction was intense. She moved her hands down Oliver’s back, fingers scraping roughly against his skin, catching on the burn scar at his lower back, before gripping his ass, and he growled, thrusting again.

He set up a rhythm, slow at first, and steady. So steady that it drove her crazy. She wanted him faster, harder, but instead he was relentless, like in every other aspect of his life. He was in control, his movements demanding complete focus from both him and her.

“Please,” Felicity found herself whispering, “ _please_ …”

The next thrust was harder, and Felicity cried out as he picked up the pace.

Her bed creaked beneath them, and for the tiniest moment Felicity wondered what her downstairs neighbors were thinking, before a particularly hard thrust had her reaching above her head, pushing against her headboard to keep herself from sliding back. She met Oliver thrust for thrust, gasping as the heat inside of her coiled tighter. Oliver had one hand on her ankle, gripping tightly, the other fisted in the bedsheets next to her head. He was clenching his teeth, breathing heavily and then Felicity caught his eyes. He didn’t look away as he ran his hand down her leg, rubbing his thumb along the underside of her knee, making her gasp, and then further down her thigh to where their bodies were joined, where he focused his attention on her clit once again.

She was already so sensitive and on edge that it was all she needed. Felicity felt her orgasm come on like tidal wave, every part of her body pulling in and tensing, synapses firing in every direction, before crashing violently through her, and she couldn’t contain the scream that went with her total loss of control.

She felt Oliver tense above her, hand digging into her thigh, but it only registered on the edge of her awareness as she gasped for breath coming down off a high that left her completely limp and exhausted. Oliver fell partly on top of her, breathing into her neck, and she kept her eyes closed, groaning slightly, as he gently lowered her leg from his shoulder. He began to trail his fingers softly over the sensitive skin, up and down, circling lightly with his nails and switching again to the pads of his fingertips, repeating the motion and sending her body even deeper into blissed out relaxation.

Felicity couldn’t feel her toes, they’d gone completely numb from her orgasm, and unconsciousness began to creep in around the edges. When Oliver pulled out a minute later, she sighed at the loss, but still didn’t have the strength to open her eyes. She heard him moving down the hallway, followed by the sound of water running in her bathroom sink, but she couldn’t have moved if she tried.

A moment later, there were hands at her waist, unzipping her skirt the rest of the way and pulling it gently from underneath her.

“Felicity,” he murmured, a thumb brushing against her cheek.

“Hm?”

“Where are your pyjamas?”

She blinked her eyes open, feeling completely drugged as she tried to think.

“Um, under my pillow,” she finally managed to respond, the words feeling heavy in her mouth.

“Okay, come on, sit up for a second.” He was pulling her gently up, and then she felt him remove the top of her dress and her bra, and a second later he was helping her pull on a soft t-shirt. He laid her back on her pillow and heard him rummaging around on the floor before he lifted her feet, slowly sliding her panties back up her legs.

And despite being half asleep already, she couldn’t help but notice how Oliver putting her underwear back _on_ felt strangely more intimate than him pulling them off had been.

The mattress dipped to her left as he slid in next to her, and he pulled the blankets up over both of them, wrapping his arm around her waist.

Tomorrow she knew her entire body was going to be deliciously sore, but then the thought of tomorrow made panic flare up in her chest for the barest second, pulling her out of her near slumber.

“Oliver,” she said, shoulders tensing, but Oliver just curled around her, fitting his leg between hers.

“Shhh,” he whispered into her hair. “We’ll talk tomorrow, don’t worry.”

That was enough to appease her for now. They would talk tomorrow. Okay.

For now, she would let herself float away in his arms.


End file.
